


the 12 days of newtmas

by Thomas_Shucking_Sangster



Category: newtmas - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Coming Out, Cute, Fluff, Gay, Humor, In the Maze, M/M, No Angst, Party, Past Relationship(s), Plot, Relationship(s), Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thomas_Shucking_Sangster/pseuds/Thomas_Shucking_Sangster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>bunch on Christmas one-shots inspired by the 12 days of Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. some kind of callback

Some kind of callback.

It was coming up christmas time and the time of bad advertising and desperate mediocre actors was afoot. For one young man, it was a last chance at a new life.   
Newt walked the dull streets filled with slush turned snow, searching for the studio that could turn his life around; not really, newt knew that the studio was a cheap run down building, and chipping paint and damp was most likely probable. 

As newt turned the corner, an alleyway with fresh coats of fluffy shaved ice came into his view.  
He took out his phone with nimble fingers and shakily checked the message revealing the time and place his audition was, from his agent.

From angela-

The audition will take place at 12:35 on the 12th december 2015-   
At the wetheral central square, henry oaks, know lane, number 22.

No good luck, no best wishes. Nothing. Nothing.

But thats exactly what he was expecting, when he came into the business.

He breathed out a sigh into the wintery weather; his cheeks tinted rose and his lips chapped and blemished. He approached the lane, reading the crooked sign as the appropriate way. 

His boots crunched in the crispy ice; non of that fluffy, light snow, that fairy tales exude- as he slowly made his way down the lane. As his feet carried him, yard by yard, the houses began to change in (descending order) structure and quality. 

16.....18......20.......22.

22\. Number 22. ah! Where the dreams begin.

As he lifted a trembling hand to the chipping door, he heard a shout from inside startling him.  
That must be the director, he thought. His agent told him the director was- well... A bit of an arse.

Newt once again built up the courage to tap on the door feebly, with numb hands. And a numb feeling in his heart. He knew whatever would happen, it would be fate on his side, deciding that nothing good would come to the poor, helpless boy.

A thundering melody of footsteps rang in the silent morn, as newt braced himself for the wrath of the angry director.

The door swung open, almost knocking the boy off of his feet and a man stood in the doorway.

Everything was like it was in slow motion; a fairytale perhaps.

This man looked like a god: fluffy, yet rugged looking chocolate tufts coated his head, a nearly bearded layer of stubble strewn across the milky flesh of his sharp jawline and dark, dark eyes, anyone would delve if they dared.

An almost, almost seductive smirk pledged on his lips as he checked out the near choked boy infront.

"hello, what is your business here? An audition, i guess?" he spilled, deep silky voice in the open air.

Well, the poor boys heart just fell out of his arse.

"um..well, uh..yes?" newt internally slapped himself for being such a dweeb. 

"you dont seem so sure.." the man, director, spoke confidently. A sly smirk sketched his demonic features.

It was irony, or perhaps fate, that brought these two, together. You see, newt was practically an angel. Sweet, kind, beautiful; a halo of dirty blonde locks, deep dark orbs that make you go soft in the knees, cheekbones so sharp they could cut like a knife, and such an innocent smile. For an innocent mind.

Well, the man, Thomas O'Brien , should we say, just wanted to wreck the boy. He wasnt evil per say, he just wasnt as innocent, or open-minded. He was gay. He just didnt like a lot of people. 

They were polar-opposites, but opposites attract.

"um...yeah sorry, m'just a little nervous is all" he smiled sweetly, and god did that smile squeeze the directors heart.

"thats okay, you're just on time...newt? Newt isaacs, i'm guessing? Come through-" the make spoke while looking down at a clip board -"..oh and newt... Theres nothing to be nervous about. Im not as harsh as they speak"

"okay..thankyou" he practically whispered.

He followed the man through the well furnished studio, until they got to a makeup stand where he told newt to sit and wait until they were ready for him.

The makeup artist made his face look a little warmer and soon after his coat and scarf were taken, he was whisked away to the waiting room.

He was intimidated to say the least, a look of pure horror when he saw that there was a least 20 other men reading their lines silently in plastic chairs strewn across the room.

He was given a script which read-

"a partridge in a pear tree"

Hmm. Okay. He could do this. 

One by one, the room emptied until there was only one.

"come in" came a mellow voice from behind a white door.

He anxiously turned the knob and pushed the door and slipped in, closing the door behind him.

There in the middle of the floor, was a fake pear tree and in a cage beside, a partridge. Of course.

"we're ready when you are" 

Here we go.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Long story short, it could've gone better.

Newts acting was incredible, but then it happened.

While he was gesturing wildly, he knocked the pear tree over, sending the cage over too. Now this really wouldnt have been a problem if there wasnt, an untrained, wild partridge desperate and probably plotting an escape route, inside. 

But there was. 

The bird escaped going absolute ape-shit on the actor as well as the company. 

Yeah. No he wasnt expecting a callback. 

He sat in the studio with the others, waiting feverishly for the seemingly less enraged producer, than he was told. 

The producer walked out, into the echo-y studio, his steel-capped shoes thunking across the parquet floor, increasing the already unbearable tension.

Newt knew he wouldnt get the part, but some part of him hoped the director would like him, and base his casting entirely on that. 

And as the callbacks were announced and as he thought, he didnt get a callback.

Back the drawing board, he sulked. 

Ah, well. He still has family to rely on; at least he isnt homeless - touch wood, knowing his luck, by the time he got back to his flat, fate would've imprinted an eviction notice onto the door.

The studio woman and the director approached him with a sorrowful look on their faces.   
Ugh, empathy. 

"i'm sorry, we really liked you, however under circumstances...." the director continued,

"should i get you your coat?" the make-up artist spoke softly. Again, ugh. Empathy. 

"no! Um, i mean ugh, no...i will get it." the director spoke suddenly, allowing both the artist and i, to be startled.

While the director grabbed his coat, they were left in a thick, uncomfortable silence.

He willed the director to come back sooner, and a couple of minutes later, the latter appeared.

"here's your coat" he said,

"thankyou, and thanks for your time, i'm really sorry about that!" he spoke with a sad smile,

"thats fine, dont worry, you were great, and it happens a lot, however we are on a tight schedule..." he conversed.

"yeah, i get it, its cool" newt sighed, running a hand through his hair, un-styling it.

"would you like me to escort you to the door?" he asked,

"no thanks, i've got it. Bye!" he shouted, on his way through the large house.

It was oddly modern and stylish from the inside, and a lot bigger than you'd expect.

Newt really wanted to see the well-looked producer again, sadly knowing that would never happen, in a city as big as new york. He was english, yes, but he lived in new york, hoping for a break through.

He was broke, but he had enough cash for the trip home to london to visit his family, and to pay the rent.

"okay. Maybe i'll see you in another audition?" the producer contemplated,

"yeah...maybe" 

And with that, he slammed the door, hoping to leave the distraught, familiar feeling of rejection kept tight inside the building, and not inside his mind. 

When he arrived home, he searched his coat for his keys, finding a folded piece of paper.

Newt, call me sometime: ***********

Wow. Well at least he got some kind of callback. 

________________________________________________________________________________

(A/N) eeeeek! Im so excited for this! Hope you enjoyed it! It was really fun to write.


	2. gimme some of that zoo knowledge mister- #2 day of newtmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a day late :( hope you enjoy!!

Gimme some of that zoo knowledge, mister

More people than you would think visit the zoo in winter, mind you they only come for the penguins and sea lions.   
And no one, no one uses the tour guides they provide; newt, the head tour guide, loves his job, but no one wants them anymore, not when they insist 'they know the way', even when they know that the zoo gets remodelled frequently.  
But newt doesnt mind, but when he does get people seeking his assistance, its usually those families with exhausted single mothers with really annoying kids; or those families who dont really give a crap about what their kids get up to.  
And while newt cleans out the zebra pens, he starts to reminisce about that one boy, who really made his day....

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

/A week ago\

Thomas was not excited to go to the zoo. His step dad, david, wanted to spend some 'quality bonding' time with him, and boy was his mum pleased about that.  
Lets just say that thomas doesnt particularly like his step-father.   
So making his way to the quiet (well, quiet for a zoo full of unwilling animals) zoo, he sat sulking in the back of his step-dads pick-up truck.

As they entered the zoo, his step-dad went to get some tickets and thomas said he would hang back.  
And thats when he saw him.  
There, in the tour guide booth, was an angel.  
Blonde fluffy hair, cheekbones that could make safety scissors of daggers, and dark, dark eyes that were in total contrast to his innocent like features.  
And when his hopeful step-dad returned, thomas shrugged, taking one last look at the unknowing boy and left.

Oh, but the young man was knowing alright. His saw the fond look of the younger boys eyes, the youthful flecks of soft caramel and maroon in his dark orbs and the rugged look of his wild hair. He looked only slightly younger than himself, himself being 18, the boy was maybe 17?

But when the boy left, his heart sank, only slightly, for what was this day to bring?

___________________________________________________________________________________

It was fair to say that thomas was not enjoying himself- he didnt want to hate his step-dad, no, on the contrary, however, he knew his step-dad was no good- anyone could tell, by the bored look on his face, or by the doubtful look in his soon-to-be-dad's.

When they stopped to look at the giraffes, his step-dad was asked for assistance of an elderly lady, who was tangled in her poodles lead.   
God knows why they made the zoo pet friendly.  
This was a chance for thomas to escape davids company and venture off into the wilderness that was the zoo. (hardly- the zoo was about as wild as a public toilet, just with less germs)

Wandering the nicely occupied walkways and stone paths, he found he had made a circle from where he'd started.  
Well, shit.   
Out the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar boy, maybe late teens? Approach him.

"hey. Are you lost? Or would you like some guide or help?" the tall, beautiful man, asked softly.   
It was the man he'd been admiring earlier and it was as if the lord was taking mercy on the boy.

"um..are you the tour guide? Im not lost, as such, but i'd love to have a guide to show me around?" he thanked the god's silently for speaking so confidently to this man, who obviously made him feel a little nervous from his uncanny beauty.

"yes! Oh i'd love to show you round, i havent had a job all day!" the boy beamed, excited to talk to someone who didnt round up to either unborn or dead. 

"so whats your name, lost boy?" the man teased, eyes glimmering in glee,  
"thomas, whats yours, tour guide?" he replied with a nudge, causing the man to stumble straight into an elderly woman, causing the man to apologise repeatedly and rounds of laughter to bubble up, afterwards.   
"the names newt, and i'll be your tour guide for the day." he winked at the younger.

As they started walking to the different animal zones, they began to talk about anything and everything, talking like they'd been friends forever, and their stomachs erupting with butterflies at any lame joke or attempt at a flirting the latter would make.

And thats how they got onto the topic that started it all...  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"c'mon then" thomas grinned excitedly,  
Newt chuckled at the boy, "what?".  
"gimme some of that zoo knowledge mister" he beamed causing newt to giggle like a little girl, i mean not like thomas minded, he thought it was adorable.  
"alright, well..what do you want to know?" he asked to the younger who grinned,  
"okay..erm, ooh! Ive got a good one... Are turtle doves, doves with shells or turtles with wings?"

And with that they were set of into fits of laughter catching attention of those around them along with annoyed faces from blocking the way. 

And as it turns out, thomas and newt had a really great time, and by the time they were back to the entrance, thomas' step-dad had approached the boys.

"oh my goodness..are you okay? Your not injured are you? Who's this?" david worried, causing thomas to roll his eyes and newt to speak up,  
"oh! I do apologise sir, i saw thomas looking a little lost so i showed him round, im the tour guide by the way, i hope i didnt disturb anything?" he replied nervously,  
"oh, thats absolutely no bother, im just glad he's okay and by the looks of things, you two get on like a house on fire!" and that caused thomas to blush pink and groan at his step-dad.

"oh but look at the time, we should be heading home!" he said suddenly,  
"oh..okay then! I'll see you another time lost boy!" newt said, bidding them a farewell at the exit gate; it was highly cliche. 

"seeya! Tour guide" 

And with that he was gone.

_________________________________________________________________________________

It was the 14th of december, two weeks after he saw the boy and if newt was completely honest, he still had thoughts of the cheery boy in his head, running around frequently; but he'd never admit that to anyone.

Snow was on the ground and he had turned up for work a little earlier due to the icy roads, and he always takes precautions does newt!

As he crunched his way up to the main reception, he saw decorations were dripping from every crevice and orifice in the building. And as he approached the sickly sweet scent of christmas cookie scented candles coming from the tables leading to the cafe, he stopped to put his belongings in his locker. 

But when he opened the latch, a gold envelope fell out and gentily slumbered onto the tiled flooring.   
He put his belongings in his locker before closing the latch hurriedly and picking the card up with curiosity.

On the front read: TOUR GUIDE

And he thought it might have been from one of the staff that had forgotten his name, he wasnt very loud or outgoing so that was highly probable. 

But when he took the card out, he knew exactly who it was from, and his heart just swelled.

On the front there was a picture of two turtles with glittery angel wings, reading: BE THE TURTLE TO MY DOVE, THIS CHRISTMAS? 

And newt just giggled and the breath caught in his throat when he remembered that no one had ever been so thoughtful to him, in his life, growing up with a hard childhood.

And tears threatened to well up in his eyes when he opened the card and it read:  
TO NEWT,

MERRY CHRISTMAS, CALL ME SOMETIME: *** **** ****

LOVE, LOST BOY. XX

(P.S I STILL BELIEVE ITS A DOVE WITH A SHELL, BUT THEY DIDNT SELL ANY OF THOSE CARDS )

And that was a new beginning for both of them.

_________________________________________________________________________________

(A/N) i hope you enjoyed this one.


	3. dont ruffle her feathers- #3 day of newtmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't even know what this is, but i thought i'd try to be funny, enjoy! also, i cant believe how many hits ive gotten already!! thankyou guys so much!! xxxx

Don't ruffle her feathers!- #3 day of newtmas

It was winter and the levels of the large landscapes of plains never looked so beautiful, so why were people gathered at the hen racing arena, and not outside in the cool, frosty morn, we'll never know.   
It was the day they'd all been waiting for, the day all the worlds best racing hens competed against each other for the title of 'world champion hen racer'. And god damn were the people excited. 

It was only 8:00 in the morning and there were tents lined up outside like a camp fire, waiting for the ticket booth to open.   
In this part of England, in the country side, they didn't have much entertainment, and so they use farm animals and the abundance of fields to bring happiness to the people, because hey, the persons get what the persons want.

It was crazy. There were beer-bellied, middle-aged men, dressed in what could only be described as what looked like blended chicken; feathers strewn across a thick layer of glue and paint, or their wives make-up- and i bet you can guess who's sleeping on the coach that night.  
Well all things considered, the celebration was not to get too wild, so alcohol was forbidden: but judging by the many late-teens starker's naked pretending to be hens and racing on the track with them, only to be 'kindly' escorted by security, moments later. I'd say they probably had a few.   
In a hotel nearby, stayed the famous hens and their coaches. 

Mostly all of the population of England were on team Sangster-  
An English boy, early twenties, went by the name Thomas, and was sure to get extra votes from the ladies; despite being known as openly gay. With his hen, newt. 

However, the American population were rooting for team O'Brien-  
A kind soul, also early twenties, called Dylan, was sure to make the women swoon, but also been known as bisexual. With his hen, stiles.

And yes, the hens do have human names- except for Thomas' and Dylan's of course (where the bloody hell they get those names, we'll never know).

And then there's the seductive French team, team Theresa-   
And well Theresa's a looker, and her hen is seriously competitive, its literally like they were brought up in the same family, except that concepts a little weird-

And the list could go on and on; in which it does.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was nearly time for the race to begin, and many drunk/high men and women had been escorted from the premises already. 

Now this Theresa, she is used to getting what she wants, and to be frankly honest, no one really minds. But when she tries to seduce Dylan- team U.S.A, Dylan basically laughs in her face, and oh, she wasn't happy.

This wasn't the first time this had happened, Theresa, Dylan and Thomas had all been in the same competition time and time again. And every single time, Theresa insists that she is going on a date with Dylan, and every single time, Dylan says no, and the ring-road continues.

Because whenever she hears no, it just eggs her on; and with this pudding, you can never over-egg the recipe. 

Anyways, many of her fans and Dylan's fans were surprised that Dylan didn't jump at the chance, because they all thought he was just a really hot player. 

But little did they know, Dylan had a major crush, maybe even a love for the humble gentlemen, that couldn't keep a smile off his face anytime of the day. Thomas brodie-sangster. It was fair to say that he was completely head over heels for the adorable Englishman, but he was good at hiding it.

And little Thomas had a thing for Dylan too, though everyone thought he liked Ki Hong- from the Japanese team, since they were always flirting, but it wasn't flirting to them, it was the way they communicated.

He loved the way Dylan's hair did whatever it want, but even when it was wet and soggy looked hot as hell. But his favourite thing was Dylan's outgoing personality and cheeky, yet seductive smirk.

And Ki Hong, well he had a thing for Theresa. 

So it was all a bit of a weird love... Triangle? Circle?...heptagon? God knows...anyway, it was all just messed up.   
________________________________________________________________________________

So basically, the situation is: the hens are getting ready to race and the crowds are cheering wildly.

Meanwhile, Ki Hong is trying to get into Theresa's pants who is trying to get into Dylan's pants while Dylan is staring fondly at Thomas, who is mindlessly feeding a bunny lettuce. Wait. Where the bloody hell did that bunny come from?

Aside from that, everything is going swimmingly; the bets are on and the coaches are at the side-lines, reputedly increasing the moral, but instead staring at each other like love-sick buffoons- except from Thomas who is adoringly still feeding the bunny. 

"And let the races begin..."   
"3"  
"2"  
"1"  
"GOOOO..."  
And the flares sound (no pun intended).

"oh and the world famous kaya, is still in front, OHHH, but who is that closing in? Its newt!! Closely followed by Minho, stiles, gally, alby, chuck and zart. Looks like its going to be a tough one folks."  
The sports announcer spoke blurred, through the squeaky speakers, obviously holding the mic too close to his mouth; the audience too excited to care enough.

"OH NO, what's this? Newt has tripped and taken out a whole row of hens! Ladies and gentlemen, never have we ever witnessed such games, it like chicken dominos, hen bowling out here! Ooooohhhhhh, and he scores a strike!"

And that my friends is what caused these hen races to be the races of the century, and some of the crowd were so excited they threw themselves off of the podiums landing themselves broken legs and heavy fines. 

At this point, Thomas had dropped the bunny and was shouting lovely things at the tumbling hen, such as:  
"you can do it!"  
"lets go newt"which quickly escalated to:  
"get up you lazy bugger!"  
"if we're going down the rest of those mcnuggets are too!"

Dylan just cooing at the now adorably enraged boy.

________________________________________________________________________________

So it was fair to say that Thomas and Dylan didn't win:  
1st- kaya  
2nd- gally  
3rd- zart  
4th- stiles and newt (draw)  
5th- Minho  
6th- chuck  
7th- alby

However they did draw, which got them talking about how unfair, but hilarious it was when newt came bounding into the rest of the hens.

They did, although, get their game together, and though a bit miffed about the turnout, they were proud of their come back.

But then...something strange and unbelievably astonishing happened.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in hen racing history, we have had to disqualify 3 of our contestants for the same nationality...so the winners are now...newt and stiles, congratulations" 

Now, that may seem totally racist, however, it is known that the rules state only one hen from the same nationality are allowed to compete. Meanwhile, Theresa, will and Alex are all French, competing from the same nationality to get a better chance of winning. Theresa is French, and Alex is Canadian and will is Russian, and the hens are all French, but she used them as minions. But she's practically a witch, so no one was surprised. 

After hearing the news from the speakers, Thomas ran straight into Dylan's arms.

Bouncing in glee, they laughed and celebrated and- oh, of course, Thomas is petting another animal.

Except this time its Theresa's hen. Shit.

"Thomas, put the freaking hen down, you'll ruffle her feathers" he hissed at the blonde boy who was cradling a very content looking hen.  
Thomas cooed, "aw, but she likes it" he replied softly, petting her gently.  
"no, i meant Theresa not the damn hen" he pointed to a very angry looking theresa who was   
approaching them starkly.

"listen Theresa...-" he contemplated,  
"no, you listen you little crap, that is my trophy and-" she said gesturing to the trophy he was holding, before cutting herself off. "- what the hell is he doing with my hen?"

They both looked at newt, who was now rocking the hen from side to side like a baby. Of course. 

"Thomas, put the hen down" he said softly,  
Thomas pouted before giving in, handing the hen to a confused Theresa. 

"anyways, Dylan...how about that lunch you promised me?" she said batting her eyelashes,  
"oh, Theresa, do you have something in your eye? Poor you, do you want me to take a look?" Thomas asked sympathetically, simultaneously pouting, completely oblivious that she was trying to flirt.

Theresa scoffed, "um..anyways about that lunch?" she beamed,  
Thomas cut in again, annoying Theresa even more- yet completely amusing Dylan- "oh sorry, Dylan's going for lunch with me, aren't you love?" he edged onto Dylan, who nodded slowly, bewildered.

"what? But i thought we had something special?" Theresa said, before she burst out crying, handing a very startled hen to Minho who took the gesture gratefully before following Theresa like a lamb to a slaughterhouse.

Well, that's one way to describe her.

And after Theresa had stormed off, Dylan turned to Thomas and said "oh my god, thank you so much, i thought I'd never live that one down!" he cried sincerely.

"who said i did it for you?" Thomas winked, before walking into the night.

Flabbergasted, Dylan just stared into nothing; he'd never understand that boy.

And that's how it all started.  
_________________________________________________________________________________

(A/N) i hope you enjoyed this one.


	4. ive been waiting

Christmas in the glade was, well, as different to normal life, to us. However to the gladers, they have no idea that the glade's Christmas was a lot different. The snow fell and it was still freezing, however, as soon as it snowed, the frozen crystals would stick to the ground, and become unmoveable. Then the ice would spread, killing any plant in sight, except for trees.

They still enjoyed Christmas though, and they decorated the place with tiny lights that they sent up through the box. And there was no illness. So all joy.

Apart from newt. Who wasnt enjoying any of it, and no one knew why. Well in a short description, he had a banging headache and it wasnt going anywhere...there was a reason for that.

The newest member of the glade was little chuck, who at times was an annoying little shit, and to be honest, most of us thought that's what was causing newts headache, but we were wrong.

After singing their own carols, newt and the little builder who was drilling into his skull, the rest of the gladers called bob, (we wonder why) slouched off to bed, mumbling profanities into nothingness.

And as he lay down in his sleeping bag, he wondered why the hell he deserved the bloody headache in the first place.

That night he had the first dream...

___________________________________________________________________________________

Newt was laying asleep, sprawled out in the soft grass, towered by trees and longing winds, weaving in the rush.

He woke startled, wondering why he was in the deadheads and not in his comfy, cosy calling sleeping bag, back in homestead. He sat up grumpily, smoothing out a cramped elbow from sleeping on it weirdly.

From a distance a faint echo was heard and he shot up; its not like the moans of the grievers werent heard at night, but newt knew they were something different.

"h-hello?" he shouted, voice breaking from grogginess. 

A whisper whirled through the wind and though almost inaudible to human ears, he heard it as clear as day.

"Thomas..." the wind continued to whip from thin air, as the branches swung to and fro, from unwelcomed visits. 

Again "hello? Is anybody there?" and again the reply came.

"Thomas..." except this time it was drawled out and heavy almost like a human voice, which simply lulled him back into agile sleep.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Newt awoke with a start, writhing and bothered in his half covered sleeping apparatus. 

Shaking; with the cold, and the side-effects for the nightmare from the night before. 

It was disturbing, disturbing how the wind whistled the boys name, which sounded oddly familiar, disturbing how peaceful and calm the eco-system lay, and disturbing how much comfort the boys name brought him. 

As he got up for breakfast, a shriek was heard from the deadheads. 

He rushed over rapidly; well, as fast as you can, with a limp. And slowed in his tracks as he approached deadly silence, the uncomfortable tension that cut only be described as disturbing. Awaiting perhaps. Waiting.

There was nothing. He searched frantically; not because if there was someone there, that they got immediate attention and no, not because he was frightened of whatever was there. It was for his own peace of mind.

Now that may sound selfish, but living in a world thats messed up and being trapped inside a giant maze, you could not afford to lose your mind. (literal no pun intended- if anyone got that).

He saw only foliage and the subtly brushstrokes of moss on the oak. And as he stepped backwards, he fumbled and tripped a large oak's roots. Being forcefully thrown backwards, gave him a different angle of perspective, where he saw a single beam of sunlight slip through the trees and sliver upon a small folded card interrupted by yields of leaves and fertile soil.

He winced as he levitated and stumbled his way, making sure of unruly roots or objects in the soil. He bent down and picked up the card, which was folded neatly twice; ironic since nothing the glade was neat, nor tidy. 

He unfolded the paper, and there in the middle read something that made newts face pale, his mind whirr and the cogs in his brain squeak to an abrupt stop. 

No, this couldn't happen, not to him, not to anyone.

`Thomas` in scrawled lettering was written, frantically, as if dangerous, as if...awaiting.   
__________________________________________________________________________________

That night minho approached newt worriedly.

"hey. You okay?" he crouched and softly said,  
Newts head shot up, causing minho to stumble backwards slightly.

"tell me- tell me you heard the scream" he whispered, shaking.

"no mate, what scream?" he comforted,

" i heard a shriek in the deadheads, but there was no one- no one.." he cried,

"listen mate, you need to sleep, i heard you whinging and muttering last night, it'll do you some good" 

Newt huffed in defeat and then slowly arose; bones clicking in the process.

"okay..now get some sleep" minho shouted, with a pointed finger at newt; as he ran backwards towards the rest of the group.

So then there was one. And at this point newt wished he had more friends to confine in, because right now the only friend he had was the one drilling tiny holes in his head; they called bob. 

And as he lay down on his sleeping bag, in the warmth of the night, the dreams continued to refrain him from sufficient sleep.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Newts eyes shot open; a chill floating to the top of spine.

This time he wasnt in the deadheads, he was situated in homestead. It was lighten meaning it was the break of dawn, so newt got up to see it.

(the thing was, these dreams were so dang real- literally- that he couldnt tell when he was awake or asleep anymore).

Walking the door of his room, it was silent but for the crows and animals in the surrounding pens. He went to minhos room first; he wasnt there.

Okay. Well that was understandable since he is a runner. So newt went to albys room; he wasnt there.

Okay. So maybe he went to breakfast or to help frypan. Yeah. 

No. When he checked the rest of the gladers sleeping bags outside, there was literally no one to be seen and it was the thought of being totally and utterly alone that scared him the most.

As he ran to the council house he caught another whisper. 

"thomas....." the winds whistled once more, tempting newt into the wistful gusts. 

"what do you want from me?" he shouted angry, because hey? People get cranky when they dont get sleep.

"thomas...." the gusts were more forceful this time as if they were calling something.

And as that thought sprung into is mind, 4 crows surrounded him like dead prey, in a circular motion as different pitches and tempos of,

"thomas..." squawked out to help the winds.

And as the noises got louder, newt fell into a deep sleep...  
_________________________________________________________________________________

Only to be shaken awake by a worried minho, yet again and surrounding empathies. 

"newt are you okay?"

"do i look okay?" he replied sarcastically; you wouldnt ask a dead person if they were feeling alright? Would you?

"well...no, but you were screaming thomas? There no thomas here" 

"well thanks for clearing that up guys, mean a lot really" he said sarcastically again, with no sincerity laced in his words.

And with that they all cleared off.

__________________________________________________________________________________

This went on for about 3 weeks, and newt was grumpy as ever, but people understood.

Except today was different; newt didnt know what day it was but he felt different.

The headache had escaped his skull and he didnt have a bad dream last night, and he felt like there was a reason for everything.

As he approached the group with a smile on his face, they all looked confused and some even frightened.

"hey guys? Nice morning" he said sitting down for breakfast, and everyone sat silently blinking in complete wonder at the once grumpy cat turned happy chap. 

And so the rest of his day went like that, until the newbie alarm went off.

Something in the air was different but newt didnt care if everyone felt it or not, it was there and he new it.

As they all ran out towards the hatch, they awaited the levitating arrival of the greenie.

The alarm turned to a bleep, noting that the box had stopped levitating and was accessible. 

And something in newts stomach turned as the hatch was lifted with care off of the box.  
They all pulled the two doors lifted up, to show a shaking boy and a few cargo crates.

They lifted the boy who was weeping silently off of the box floor and onto the soft grass. And newt bent down to talk to the boy.

But as their eyes met, he found it difficult to breathe. The boy was gorgeous, tufts of chocolate brown hair, striking but soft caramel eyes, with a strong bone structure, the air was knocked out of his lungs.

And the way the latter was staring at newt, he felt the same way: newt had dirty blonde locks on his head that formed the shape of curls in some areas, he had milky white skin, cheekbones as sharp as knives and dark orbs that contrasted his demeanour. 

"newt, is he okay?" someone shouted from the back, making thomas shoot his eyes back to the blonde boy.

"yeah i thi-" he was cut off when the boy leaped into newts arms.

"its you!" he cried as he hung around newts neck and newt hugged back, as he felt a certain connection with the boy.

They ignored the wolf whistles and cat calls.

"thomas? Is it you?" he whispered,

The boy nodded, " ive been waiting for you"

As they hugged it felt like eternity, but they didnt care, the world was made for them.


End file.
